Menogoround; A Boomeranger

As nothing much going on just now, it's time to air out an old post... this one from the same week, eleven years back. A wee bit o' nonsense...

It is one of the small joys of life that, in this quiet wee place beside the Clyde, on Sunday mornings and with a fair wind, I can hear the church bells ringing.  There are two within earshot. If the wind is a Westerly, then it is Holy Trinity Episcopal, up the hill from me at Kilbride Road. If the wind is an Easterly, 'tis the tones of the High Kirk (presbyterian CofS), which of course sits on Kirk Brae.  You'd think with that address it would, then, be No. 1.  ...but no.  No.3 Kirk Brae it is. No. 1 is the old 'hostelry', pub, bar...



It's a week till Christmas. Astounding.  This time last year I was gadding about on the Isle of Bute, falling in love with the place. Dunoon is only an hour's drive to Rothesay, including the ferry hop at Colintraive, so I can still visit it when I wish.

Being on the Clyde means that there is plenty of interest on the water. Shipping for the most part. For a couple of days last week, that pretty much stopped due to the HUGE storm with 15+metre waves and 80mph (and then some) winds.  Then came the morning when it all died down. It was glistening with ice. The Grena Knutsen drew safely in, through the frozen air...

...is there a point to this?  Not really. Am just letting the mind loose for a bit. Sometimes that works.

Not always, but sometimes...